Heavenly Kings
by kittikat8531
Summary: As they prepare for their first trip to the Moon Kingdom, Endymion and the Shitennou remember their pasts, what made them into who they are, and why they came together. A little Senshi/Shitennou, Endymion/Serenity. Please R&R.
1. Acceptance: Kunzite

AN: No, this isn't Stars. This is a story I've been considering for a while – since Heartbound at least. I meant to include parts of it there, but it interrupted the flow of the main story and took the focus off the main characters. I love the Shitennou, but the priority in the main series is normally Usagi and Mamoru even if Golden Ascension dealt with the secondary pairings much more than the others had. Instead, this is the origins of the Shitennou in the Silver Millennium, each one giving us an insight into what they found by joining with Endymion.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Shitennou or anything else.

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It was easy, Endymion thought, to love his planet. He couldn't imagine any of the others comparing, and with his upcoming trip he had certainly tried.

Spring had begun, leaving his gardens a riot of color as his roses bloomed one after the other. In other parts of the world they were still in bud, if that, but Elysion was the most fertile and had extremely mild weather for all but the coldest parts of winter. The other flowers were blossoming as well, but roses were his particular favorite. One of his gifts to the Silver Queen would be cuttings of his best plants; he had been assured they would be well cared for. Her beautiful daughter was in awe of the blooms, saying nothing so brightly colored appeared there.

Knowing he would be leaving the very next day for who knew how long, the prince had found himself looking around as if he'd never seen his home before. Finally he sprawled on the grass alongside his companions – even stern Kunzite, which was a miracle in itself – and stared up at the stars.

He loved his generals like they were his brothers, and it was because of them that he never felt isolated in his lofty position. While they would never face the responsibility of ruling the entire Earth, they were kings in their own rights and the only other magic users the planet had to offer. More, their group was the sole reason the Silver Alliance was even willing to meet with them; they had no interest in building relations with a government that wouldn't be able to contribute anything.

"Are you all packed?" Kunzite asked, breaking the silence. The eldest, he was always cool and collected, and it was just as well. If something pushed him so far as to break his control, the leader of the Shitennou became a berserker and would kill anyone in his path. Endymion could calm him, but it was dangerous. At the same time, the gap in their ages made him double as almost a father figure to the youngest boys. He was certainly the one in charge of discipline.

A vague chorus of agreement was his answer, but he was content with that and said no more. It was unusual for the entire group to be off duty at once, since they were always dealing with some crisis or situation, but out of respect for their impending departure the five men had been given the evening off to prepare for the journey. It wasn't necessary; as warriors they had long since learned to be ready at a moment's notice. Instead they were simply enjoying each other's company. None of them really knew what to expect from the Alliance.

"It'll be strange looking down on Earth," Nephrite said quietly as he listened to his precious stars' evening song. "I wonder if I'll still be able to understand them."

"I should think so," Zoisite replied. "You listen to them, Nephrite; you hardly depend on sight, and they will know you anywhere. Maybe from another world they will allow you to hear even more."

Jadeite flopped over onto his stomach and folded his hands under his chin, contemplating the grass in front of him. "Will we ever be able to look at this place the same way once we've gone beyond what we know?"

Endymion blinked. "No. How can you look at something the same after being exposed to other worlds? That doesn't mean we'll suddenly love it less, though."

"Here, here," Nephrite agreed.

A soft breeze blew across them, ruffling their hair and the casual clothes they so rarely wore. On any other day it would be royal regalia or military uniforms. Jadeite, informal as he was, hadn't even bothered with a shirt.

"What were you looking for when you came here?" Endymion asked suddenly. "What did you find?"

After a heavy pause, Kunzite turned to look at him. "Why do you ask?"

"None of you talk about your lives before you were brought here and given to me like presents. I don't know anything about you before you were mine. What did you find here, Kunzite? Why didn't you stay at home?"

He sighed before a tired smile edged onto his thin lips. "I found acceptance."

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"He's cursed," they would whisper when he walked by. "No true servant of Allah would look as he does."

Kareem struggled to keep his head high, to hide his tears behind an emotionless mask. It followed him wherever he went; people could not understand how a child had been born with his strange white hair and piercing blue-grey eyes. The abnormalities were made even more striking by his deeply tanned skin. The people were good Muslims, but old superstitions lingered and his appearance made him suspect. Even his father shied from him.

He had heard the story many times: upon his birth, the Caliph had accused his wife of having an affair with another man. She denied it, and as there was no evidence and the Caliph would not condemn a woman without proof neither of them spoke of it again. The Caliph thought his son was predestined to bring ruin to their people and actively tried for another child, but he only had daughters with his other wives. Kareem was his heir because he had no other, not because he would be his father's choice.

Of course, there were those who would not heed such superstitions, his mother among them, but Anisa knew her son would suffer for his differences. She gave him a name for nobility as a sort of bolster to his spirits, and he always strove to honor it. He would be noble and ignore the mockery of others.

Any chance he had of gradually gaining the trust of his people died a horrible premature death when his magic first appeared. His elder half-sisters had been teasing him mercilessly about his odd hair when the drapes caught fire. They immediately ran, but he sat stunned until his mother appeared calling his name. As soon as his concentration was broken, the flames extinguished themselves and the cloth seemed completely unharmed.

Kareem was a lonely little boy\. Had he been educated outside the safety of the palace, there was no doubt he would have returned home covered in bruises at the end of each day. He feared his power as much as they did and struggled to keep it contained, which meant others could target him without retaliation because he knew losing his temper might result in someone being hurt.

"You! Demon boy!"

Wincing, the young prince fought to maintain his passive façade as he turned. Haidar's father was a close confidante to his own, which meant Haidar was one of the few children his own age Kareem was expected to interact with on a regular basis despite his superior social status. Called 'the little lion', Haidar was a head taller than Kareem and heavily muscled. He was one of the prince's many tormentors, and the most vicious.

"Yes, Haidar?" Kareem asked, pleased when his tone remained even.

"Go back to your cave, you monster. You don't belong around civilized folk."

"I can go wherever I wish."

"You have no business in busy parts of the palace."

"I am only going to meet the Calipha in her garden. If you will excuse me, I am sure she is already waiting."

"I don't know what the Calipha still sees in you," the other boy jeered. "Even the Caliph won't speak to you unless he has to. She must be addle-minded. Did you curse her too? Is that why she can't have a proper son, or even another useless girl?"

"I would never harm my mother," Kareem countered, trying to tamp down on his building rage. "Let me pass."

"Or what?" Haidar challenged.

"Or I shall get quite angry."

The few children that had gathered around took several steps back, remembering the burning curtains and several other incidents, but the little lion wasn't willing to abandon his prey so easily. "You're too scared to use those freakish powers of yours. You know they mark you for what you are."

"I am nothing more than a human, as are you. Magic is natural; I merely have more of it than most in this day and age."

"Fine excuses justifying your inhuman qualities, demon boy."

"Why should I have to justify powers I did not ask for? I cannot control what I was born with, Haidar, any more than you can. At least I do not torment those who are smaller than I am."

"You ruined the Calipha with your evil," Haidar snarled. "What we do to you is only to remove your taint from decent men."

"Do not say such things about my mother."

"Then do something about it!"

Pushed past his reasonable limits, Kareem tensed. The aura of magic around him, normally hidden from view, appeared as a pale gold fringe just over his skin.

"This is your last chance, Haidar. Let me pass before something dreadful happens."

"The righteous do not give way to demons!"

His jeering laughter was cut short when crackling static filled the hall. Kareem stood in the center, eyes closed as he tried to reel it in. Lightning struck a scant few centimeters from the other boy's foot, then again even closer. Now panicked, the other children ran. Haidar paused at the end of the hall and glared hatefully at his prince.

"You are a monster and someday you will be dealt with as such!"

Then he was gone and Kareem was alone.

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"It happened again, Mother," Kareem said wearily as he joined the Calipha in her private gardens. "I tried to stay calm but he kept insisting it was my fault you have not had more children to replace me."

The Calipha was a beautiful woman, with her raven's-wing hair and deep brown eyes, but more, she was clever and kind. She saw the beauty and strength her son had to offer though no one else did, and she defended him from those that would do him harm.

"Oh, I am sorry, dearest," Anisa murmured, sweeping her son into her arms. Though he was six, Kareem was small enough to pass for a meager four. "Was it Haidar again?"

He nodded, turning his face into his mother's neck. "Do you want to replace me?"

"Of course not," she said fiercely. "Never believe them when they say such things, Kareem. You are my son, and I love you more than anything. Even if I were to have another child, nothing would ever replace you in my heart. You are not evil, and you are not a demon even if you look different and have more power than has been seen here in many years. You are just a boy, no matter how extraordinary your gifts. Someday everyone will come to understand how special you truly are."

"Even Father?"

"I think so. Your suffering will make you a great ruler, darling, because having suffered you will know how to protect others from a similar fate. There are those who claim you will bring us to destruction, but we know they are wrong. You will bring us wisdom and bravery, and your powers may seem like a curse now but someday they will be a gift. They will open the door to a new life for you."

"Are there any others like me?"

"I do not know, my dear, but I think there must be. Allah does not want us to be always alone, so in time you will find companions like yourself."

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Nothing could have prepared Prince Kareem for the horror of his mother's death two years later. The court healers did everything they could, but they said her condition was beyond their meager abilities, and Kareem himself had never shown any capacity for the craft. She had been poisoned for being his mother and there was nothing he could do to help.

"What will I do now?" Kareem asked dully as he and his father waited out the end of the three day mourning period. Aside from his many sisters, all of whom despised him, his father was now his only remaining family and would dictate the course of his future.

"What do you wish to do?"

"I wish to make my mother proud."

The Caliph looked at him for a moment before turning once more to his wife's grave. "Anisa wanted you to have a life outside the palace. She said you would find no ease here once she had gone, so she asked that I send you away to school. There is an academy at Elysion for the sons of kings and nobility; you have been accepted there."

"My mother asked for this?"

"Yes." His tone said he was lying, that _he_ wanted his son to leave, but the finality let Kareem know arguing was not an option. "You will be leaving in a week's time."

Kareem bowed in response, and the Caliph brushed by to rejoin his court. The few others who had held vigil with them left as well. Once they were gone, Kareem sat by his mother's grave, tears in his eyes.

"I do not know what I will do without you," he whispered. "I do not know the world beyond these walls; you kept me inside to protect me from those that would hate me for my power, but what good did it do when I was unable to save you from those that feared me? What is the point of this power if it could not heal you?"

_Do not blame yourself, my son._

Kareem jolted, scared for the first time in those two years; after Haidar's attack he had been left to his own devices as his power grew and he began to attain some measure of control. Seeing his mother's spirit, however, was more than enough to summon fear. He had never attended a funeral before and had not known he could see the dead.

_Please, do not be frightened; I will not linger long. I only meant to reassure you, Kareem. I know you are worried about what might wait for you on Elysion Isle. Though I did not ask your father to send you, I believe you will find what you need there. Elysion is your best chance for a new life, my dearest, and the king has sworn you will be safe. Tarin is a good man, and he will watch over you. Happier times are waiting for you._

"I cannot imagine my life without you."

_I will always be with you. Not like this, though I wish I could be, but I will be in your heart and that is truly the best place, for the heart is love. You have an astounding capacity for love, but you have only given it to me thus far. Someday you will love many, and there will be a woman who surpasses me there. Love will find you, my son, when you are ready. _

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The academy proved kinder than the caliphate, but Kareem remained solitary. Even among the best minds in the kingdoms, he was the only one capable of incredible magic. It inspired awe, at least, rather than the constant fear and hatred he had known before. The years passed quietly, with nothing really distinguishing one day from the next. He returned home once a year for two weeks, spent those fourteen days in miserable isolation, and once back at school resumed his bland and tasteless life. That all changed shortly after the start of his fifth term.

"Kareem, there's a guest here for you," one of the elder students said as he stuck his head in the door. "He and the headmaster are waiting for you in the headmaster's office."

"Thank you," Kareem answered quietly. "I will be down in a moment; I need to finish this question before I forget what I was going to write."

He paid no heed to the other boy's exit as he completed his assignment and set it aside to let the ink dry, closing the book he had been referencing and returning it to its place on his shelf. That done, he smoothed his uniform and went in search of his mystery guest.

Arriving at the master's office, he once more adjusted his clothing before rapping gently on the door. Once he was given permission to enter, he slipped in as quietly as possible.

"You summoned me, Headmaster?"

"Yes, come in. Kareem, this is Lord Perrin Alderman, a court magic user. Perrin, this is Prince Kareem of the Caliphate."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Kareem said with a shallow bow.

Perrin echoed the gesture. "And you as well, young prince. King Tarin sent me."

That statement made the boy frown. Though his mother had told him Tarin was a good man, a good king, there had been no contact between them in the two years the young prince had been at the academy and he had been fine with that. The less attention he got from the king, the better; it kept him away from anyone that might want to use him.

"And what does the king want of me?" Kareem asked finally.

"It has come to the king's attention that you possess a great deal of magic, Prince Kareem. The Silver Queen worries that if you and those like you are left unattended your power may run away with you."

The phrase 'Silver Queen' had him a bit concerned, but he did his best to cover his worry. "The concern is touching, but I am already learning to control my abilities, my lord."

"That may be, but the king has decided that it is best for you and the others to be brought to the palace. There will be a special tutor arriving to assist you. When your training is done, he means to make you a member of his son's court."

"The offer is generous, but I cannot accept. I am my father's only heir and I must return to the Caliphate when I am grown."

"You have no love for the Caliphate," Perrin said calmly, "or the Caliph himself, who has shown you none. Prince Endymion is like you, Kareem. He has magic. He will need companions that understand him, that he cannot force into obedience. If the Silver Queen is correct, beyond the prince himself your powers are the strongest on Earth. You will be a king someday, but you will serve him in turn. At the very least you must come to the palace and listen to what King Tarin has to say."

Kareem looked tentatively at the headmaster, who nodded. He acquiesced with a sigh. "Very well; I will listen to the king's request. When are we to go?"

"Now, if you can. I have a carriage waiting in the courtyard. Prince Endymion and his father are anxious to meet you and the other boys."

"How many others are there?"

"The Silver Queen told their Majesties of four beside their son, so after you there are three more. You are not quite as alone as you thought."

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Kareem knelt at the foot of the dais, not daring to look at the king or queen on their thrones. The little prince on the steps, however, immediately caught his attention. Endymion was only three to his twelve; how could so small a child be like him? What could he do for the prince that others could not?

"Your father made me your guardian while you are in Elysion, Kareem."

"Yes, my king."

"Yet you do not wish to be among my son's court?"

"I have responsibilities in the Caliphate, Majesty, and I cannot abandon them."

"I am not asking you to. The Caliphate is yours when your father steps down; this will not change no matter your response. We have ways for you to pass between the regions of the world at will, and you may be one of those rare few who are capable of teleportation when your powers develop." Kareem said nothing, eyes still on the little black-haired prince, and the king sighed. "Endymion will need people who understand him, and you are one of very few who might. More, you too need to learn to use your powers wisely."

"I can already control them to an extent; the rest will come with time."

"You are not controlling them, you are locking them away. Don't you want to know how much you're capable of?"

It was sorely tempting. As Lord Perrin had said earlier, Kareem really had no bonds to the land of his birth save the matter of his inheritance. If he could learn the true use of his magic as well as stand by the crown prince without losing his own title, why shouldn't he?

"What is it you want me to do for the prince?"

"You will join him?"

"Perhaps. I cannot give a final answer until I know more."

"He will need guards as he grows older. He will also need those loyal to him on the great thrones of the regions, as you will one day inherit the Middle East. The five of you with magic could form a level of power the Earth has not seen in generations."

"You wish me to be a knight in his service."

"When the time comes, yes. Later you will be more; I would be very surprised if one day you did not advance through the ranks until you were a general as well as a wizard-king."

"And I will still inherit the Caliphate?"

"And much more. The entire territory will be under your sole leadership."

Kareem tilted his head slightly, assessing the king for the first time. His expression was entirely honest. Before he could respond, the little prince toddled over and used Kareem's shoulders to regain his balance. His still-chubby face lit up when the older boy smiled at him.

"A new friend!" little Endymion said ecstatically. He began to circle Kareem's kneeling form, occasionally reaching out to pat his strange white hair. "Soft…"

The young caliph smiled again as he watched his new charge. "I accept, then. I will serve Prince Endymion as the master of his men and leader of his forces. I will protect him no matter what the cost to myself."

"You are leaving your old life behind, you realize."

"Yes. I have no regrets."

"Then you need a new name for a new life, one that sets you apart from the rest of the world while uniting you with those still to come. We will call you Kunzite."

"Kunzite?" he repeated, tasting the unusual syllables.

"It is an ancient tradition that those using Earth's magic carries a name of one of its minerals. It will serve as both a name and title, forever marking you as something more than an ordinary human. It will define you for as long as you live; you will never truly be Kareem again. He is gone as surely as if he had died."

For a moment Kunzite was ready to object, thinking of his mother's choice as a way to keep him strong, but he stopped to think. Kunzite would always be known to be strong because it was tied fundamentally to magic and the prince and the future. He would always remember his mother and his life as Kareem, but it had ended with her death. Once she had gone Kareem had been a placeholder, a manner of address that was convenient and nothing else. She would not begrudge him the change.

"Kunzite it is. From this day on, I swear myself and my strength to Prince Endymion. I will be his guide and guard, his sword and shield."

He would have continued, but King Tarin rose. "There will be time for more formal oaths when you are older, Kunzite. Now is the time for learning and growing. The tutor of the Silver Queen will be arriving within the day; you should bring your things to the palace. The academy is no longer the place for you."

"Sire, who is the Silver Queen?"

"You would know her from your studies as the moon goddess, but in truth the Silver Queen, Serenity, is the mistress of the Moon Kingdom at the heart of Silver Millennium. She and her people safeguard Earth from our more violent neighbors, and when she came to greet my son she saw you and those like you and knew your time was coming."

And maybe it was, Kareem – now Kunzite, the future lord of the Shitennou and master of the Middle East – thought, looking at the child that was now his charge. He dared to imagine a happy future for the first time since his mother's death.

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AN: Obviously, this was the chapter of Kunzite. That was clear, right? That I was dealing with the greatest of them first? He's always fascinated me – a man his age is normally impulsive and rash, but Kunzite as he's grown in my stories is very quiet and subdued. Something had to happen to cause his unbelievable control and to make it so difficult for him to get close to others. That's what this goes into. I hope everyone enjoyed it, and I'd love to hear what people think. Till next time!


	2. Family: Zoisite

AN: Wow, this really shouldn't have taken so long. I had about half of it done for the longest time but couldn't seem to get it put together properly. So this is Zoisite's chapter regarding how he arrived in Elysian and became part of the Shitennou. Since I didn't mention this earlier, this story will most likely go longer than four chapters and may well include the meetings of Senshi and Shitennou.

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything except my own ideas.

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"Your childhood sucked," Jadeite said plainly.

Kunzite shot him a cold look and he quickly shut up. Endymion, already curious about the others, ignored them both. "What about you, Zoisite?"

The youngest general looked away. "I do not have much of a past before this; you know as much, prince."

"What have I told you about using titles?" Endymion asked with a sigh. "You're only a year younger than I am. So what did you find here?"

"You already know my answer to that."

"Tell me anyway."

Zoisite frowned, closing his eyes. "I found a family."

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Once Kunzite had mastered the bare basics of magic, he and his tutor were sent in search of the missing boys. Their first few forays proved fruitless, but he knew something was different as soon as they set foot in Switzerland. Kainess, the town that housed the European transport pad, had a different feel to it than the other cities and towns they'd searched. He turned one way and the other, trying to pinpoint the source of the feeling.

"Kunzite?" the Lunarian tutor, Hyperion, asked. Not only a teacher, Hyperion had been sent to safeguard the children from their own powers and whatever threat might be posed to them. Their magic was too valuable to waste in such a powerless world. "Is anything wrong?"

"I think one of the others might be somewhere near here. I feel something; I do not know what yet."

"You would know better than I," the older man said. "Can you follow it?"

"Yes, I believe so."

The only reason the king had let Kunzite go with Hyperion was because as a Lunarian he had no natural draw to sources of Earth magic. Kunzite on the other hand would sense it and be able to follow it. Endymion hadn't liked seeing him go, but he'd finally agreed when Kunzite told him they were looking for more friends.

Once outside the small castle in the center of the town, the young lord stood on the steps and tried to focus, deliberately clearing his mind so the soft gold magic would be easier to find. In the meantime, Hyperion drifted a short ways away and began asking the villagers if they knew of a young boy with strange powers. No one seemed to, but they promised to spread the word as they hurried on with their work.

Finally, he was able to get a lock on the power. It was somewhere in town and moving, but not with much speed. It also felt very new and delicate, barely revealing itself to the world. He hurried after the feeling, knowing his tutor would be close behind. When it turned his direction, he ground to a stop.

"You looking for a magical lad?" a gruff farming woman asked as she elbowed through the crowd.

"Yes, madam," he answered politely.

Without any further explanation, she pushed the rest of the way through, dropped a small child in his arms, and sped off again. He tried to follow, bursting with questions, but she was gone and he had to stop before he upset the boy in his arms. Hyperion reached them a moment later, took one look at the sleeping child, and ushered him back the way they'd came.

"Hyperion, his mother – his family –"

"Not every mother takes as kindly to power as yours did, lad. If she was going to give him up so easily, we would do well to take him away before some nasty fate befalls him."

"We do not even know his name."

That made the older man stop, and he turned to take them both in. "Then you'll name him. For better or for worse, he's yours now. I'll have the teaching of him, but you'll be the one raising the lad. You'll be the family he needs."

"I have no idea how to raise a child. I barely know what to do with Prince Endymion, and I think he is older than this boy."

"Yes, most likely. This little one only has about two years, I'd guess. Nonetheless, he was given to you. No matter how unsure you may be, you'd be a great bear if anything were to happen to him now. He'll have a nurse in Elysion, but you'll be the one he'll answer to."

Kunzite shifted his burden awkwardly, waiting as the little body relaxed against his, one small fist curling into his hair. Hyperion led the way to Kainess Castle and the portal that would take the little boy to his new home.

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The boy was named Zoisite after he seized a piece of that crystal from a set on Kunzite's desk and refused to relinquish it. Endymion had found it hilarious, but the younger child had only studied him with big green eyes. He grew up in court and never questioned how he came to be there, though the others had told him from early on that he was from Switzerland. Instead, he assumed he was an orphan.

When he was four, they discovered he could teleport. It wasn't as easy for him as it was for Kunzite, who had come into the same power at thirteen, but it was nonetheless impressive for a child his age. At five, he started asking about his birth family. Kunzite sat down with him and patiently explained he only knew that when he had been found he'd been with a woman, but it did nothing to settle the younger boy's thoughts. Was that woman his mother? Had he been abandoned? Did she hate or fear him for his powers? It was a hard time for him, but eventually Kunzite, Endymion and Hyperion managed to draw his attention to other pursuits.

His powers continued to grow, and within three months of his conversation with Kunzite he realized he could go to people he knew instead of just places. The eldest of the boys had gone to Europe to continue his search for the others, and Zoisite was delighted to have a chance to surprise his far too serious 'brother'. He closed his eyes and focused on a mental image of Kunzite as best he could, then opened them again as cold touched his skin. The skies were grey as it snowed, and for a moment he was only a little boy in the silence of a snowfall. Loud voices cut through his thoughts before he could begin to enjoy it.

"Since you took the boy years ago, I fail to see how it matters," an older woman said with no little disdain.

Zoisite bristled, not liking how she was talking to someone he loved, but before he could send a snowball flying at her Kunzite responded. "He is your son, madam, and he is asking questions about his family that I have no answers to."

"I have no son."

"The day you put him in my arms suggests otherwise. If he were not your son, why was he with you?"

"He was an accident," she said angrily, knocking flour off her apron. "A mistake before his father left and got himself killed. You took him and that was the end of that."

"Even so, you raised him for two years. He must mean something to you. Do you even want to know what we named him? Will you tell me what he was called before?"

"He never had a name," the woman said coldly.

Kunzite's fisted hands made it obvious he was getting angry, but he kept his voice from betraying him. "I will not tell a five-year-old boy that his own mother did not care enough to give him a name and has not thought of him in the three years since she gave him to me."

"I don't care what you tell him. He made things difficult in my marriage, and we had too many mouths to feed already. He was always strange, too, never crying or raising a fuss like a normal babe. Good riddance, I say."

The woman – his _mother_, Zoisite realized in horror – stormed back into her cottage and slammed the door. He fell to his knees in the snow, and the gentle crunching was enough to draw Kunzite's attention. He whipped around, horror marking his normally calm features.

"Zoisite."

"I wanted to surprise you," he said shakily. "I can find people now."

"How much of that did you hear?"

"Kunz, is that my mother who just said all those horrible things?"

The older boy swallowed hard before nodding. "Yes, I think she is."

"Why did she want to get rid of me?!"

"I wish I knew."

That was all it took for Zoisite to burst into tears, making Kunzite wince. With a quick hug, the young man lifted him and held him close.

"Just close your eyes," he said quietly. "We are going home."

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It took a few weeks for Zoisite to feel somewhat normal again – no child liked hearing how little his parents cared for him. Being around the family that had raised him helped, but all they could do was be kind and pretend nothing had happened. Once he was doing better, he rejoined Kunzite and Endymion for sword training with the master at arms in the castle courtyard. Before they could begin, a page hurried up.

"Lord Kunzite, a man is at the gates demanding to speak with you about Master Zoisite. What shall I do?"

Kunzite frowned, lowering his blunted practice sword and glancing at Zoisite. "Send him in, but alert the king or queen. I cannot think of any men who would know Zoisite."

The page bowed and ran off again, returning a minute later with an unfamiliar man in worn traveling garb. His dark, weathered face made Kunzite think he was either a farmer or sailor who spent a lot of time in the sun.

"You being the Lord Kun-something?" the stranger asked.

"I am Kunzite, yes. How may I help you?"

The older man studied him with a coldly appraising eye, and Kunzite straightened automatically under the scrutiny. He was just fifteen, but the newcomer was only a scant few centimeters taller. He had an advantage in breadth from a hard life's work, though again the difference was fairly small. Kunzite knew he could win if it came to a fight.

"I'm lookin' for repayment for taking care of that," he said, gesturing at Zoisite. The little boy flinched and took a step back. "He's here being a lord or some such now, so I figure my wife and I should be compensated. We be losing years of labor by leaving him with you lot."

"Zoisite was given over to the crown freely," Kunzite said, struggling to keep his voice level. "No payment was expected."

"Now it is."

"Then I suggest you speak to the king or queen, but I do not think they will give you what you seek. As I understand it, you are not Zoisite's father, so you have no claim and his mother expected nothing."

The stranger scowled fiercely. "And you think you be so mighty as to tell me what to do, do you? I have half a mind to take the boy back." He took a threatening step toward his stepson.

"I suggest you move away from the child. You are frightening him."

His response was to grab Zoisite's arm and twist it, pulling him from his companions. "You be going home now, laddie. They clearly don't care enough ta pay for you."

Endymion lunged for his friend, little face twisted with anger, but the man backhanded the young prince and sent him sprawling.

Kunzite saw red. The next thing he knew, Endymion and Zoisite were clinging to his front in tears as two of the guards pulled him back. The older man was writhing in pain on the ground, his nose very clearly shattered and his left shoulder dislocated. It was the arm he'd grabbed Zoisite with, and the teen had to bite back a snarl. It took all of his concentration to hold still at first, but a moment later he realized Endymion's face was bruising. Zoisite's stepfather had hit him on the other side.

Realization struck like lightning. "Oh no. Prince Endymion, did I do that?"

The little boy winced but smiled. "I'm not mad, Kunz. I know you didn't mean to hit me. I just wanted you to stop."

"I told you to never get in the way when bigger people fight," he said, horrified.

"I thought you were going to kill him for hurting us. I didn't want that. You would have felt bad later."

Kunzite pulled the boys closer as the soldiers released him, giving them a hug. "I am so sorry you two had to see that. I would never have let him in if I knew you were going to be in danger. Zoisite, are you alright?"

"I'm okay."

"Endymion?"

He nodded. "It's just a flesh wound."

He almost choked on a laugh he shouldn't have been capable of. "Spoken like a true warrior."

Queen Rose strode into view, flanked by several guardsmen. "What happened here?"

Endymion hurried to his mother's side. "Mama, that bad man tried to hurt Zoi."

"Lord Kunzite, report."

Kunzite immediately knelt. "My lady queen, I am deeply sorry for my actions and would more than understand if you no longer felt I was worthy of guarding your son. I had no right losing control like that in front of him or Master Zoisite."

"What do you mean?"

Zoisite's voice piped up instead. "It's my fault, not Kunz's. That bad man was here for me and I was too scared to fight, so Kunz had to protect me."

The queen blinked, looking at the two little boys. "I see. Hyperion, take the boys to the nursery. Kunzite, come with me. We will discuss this privately."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

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Queen Rose listened quietly as Kunzite detailed everything he knew of the confrontation. After a long pause, she got to her feet and began to pace the floor of her study. The young lord remained kneeling on the floor. She noticed a second later.

"At least take a chair, Kunzite. That cannot be comfortable."

"It is no more than I deserve."

"I will be the judge of that. As I understand it, you obeyed your orders and stood between my sons and an outside threat. Yes, I consider Zoisite mine as much as Endymion is. He needs a mother, and I have no trouble providing that for him. While I am worried at your loss of control, you are young still. We can be lenient this time, and I am sure you will learn to contain such outbursts so they do not hurt my child again."

"I struck the prince. That is an act of treason."

"I know you would never deliberately hurt my son. He also was able to calm you, so clearly you were still connected enough to sense to recognize him before you did to him what you did to the man who tried to take Zoisite."

"Are you sure you are comfortable with this?"

"You were so enraged by that man trying to hurt one of your charges that you were willing to take him apart with your bare hands to defend them. I think there are very few men who would go to such lengths against an opponent they knew nothing about. He could have been armed, and still your first thought was to help the boys. No, Kunzite. I am more comfortable having you on my son's side than I would be if you were anywhere else."

"So I am not to be punished for hurting Zoisite's stepfather?"

"He deserved every bit of it, but I am sure my husband will claim he will have you disciplined to avoid trouble. Rest assured it will be nothing more than a scolding. Now, I am sure my sons are worried sick about you. I suggest you let them know that you are fine."

"Of course, my queen."

He rose and bowed, hurrying from the study toward the nursery. The boys leapt at him as soon as he was through the door, hanging around his neck and babbling at the same time. It took a few moments for him to quiet them.

"You're not leaving us, are you?" Endymion asked.

"No. Your mother says she wants me on your side."

"I'm sorry, Kunz," Zoisite said quietly. "It's my fault. That bad man was here because of me. I didn't want you to get in trouble."

Setting the boys down, he crouched in front of them. "Never think even for a minute that I regret protecting you. We are a family, and that is what family does."

"But, Kunz, I thought that man was my family."

"Family is more than blood, Zoisite. It is friendship and love. I know you worried about not having a family that loved you, but that is absolutely not true. We are your family because we love you, not because of anything like blood, which is an accident of nature."

"Do you have a family?"

"Yes. You two are my family."

The littler boy blinked twice before smiling. "Okay. Family."

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AN: As always, your opinions are greatly appreciated, and I hope you liked the chapter. Please let me know what you thought. Till next time!


	3. Home: Jadeite

AN: I had the intro to this chapter for ages, but I just put together the rest of it over the past few days. It took a while to find something unique for Jadeite, but I think I managed.

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything Sailor Moon except some shirts and a few manga volumes.

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"And do not even think to tell me my childhood 'sucked'," Zoisite hissed at Jadeite.

The other blond had the good grace to look a bit sheepish. "To be honest, I kind of envy you. You never knew the people that abandoned you, really."

"You did," he murmured, understanding. "I am sorry that they found me so much more quickly than you."

"It happens, and I still got here eventually."

"So what did you find, Jade?" Endymion asked.

"Same as them," he replied absently, waving a hand.

"No, really. Come on."

"If we had to share, so do you," Kunzite added. It was probably a little childish, but he didn't want to have been the only one sharing a painful past. Jadeite normally avoided discussing what had happened to him before Elysian.

"Oh, fine," Jadeite grumbled good-naturedly. "I got a home."

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War constantly gripped China, but this threat was internal. Many opposed friendly relations with a neighboring dynasty, and someone within the court sought to supplant the sympathetic emperor by killing his only son and heir, who had just been born. People thought the baby's blond hair and blue eyes meant he was destined for greatness, so he was considered a threat. It broke his parents' hearts when they were told their son would have to be proclaimed dead and sent away to save his life.

The baby was rushed out of the capital in the middle of the night by the empress's most trusted servants, who carried him to a minister in the northern provinces. It was the first of the boy's many stops on a long and arduous journey. He grew up in the care of servants, always knowing who his parents were and what he had lost.

When he was eight, 'Jung', as he was most recently being called, was now living in the southernmost regions of China. He was never allowed out of the house, for fear of someone recognizing his strange coloring and connecting it with the supposedly dead prince. He had to listen to the servant who had stayed with him the entire time remind him not to show himself or reveal his continued existence to anyone but the old couple he was staying with. He was assured again and again that the trouble would end and he would be reunited with his parents.

"Are you even listening?" Piao, his servant, demanded irritably. "Boy, I am trying to teach you the things you will need to know when you are emperor."

"We both know I will never be the emperor," the boy said in an icy voice. "I don't know why you keep up this pretext."

"When it is safe for you to be revealed, you will be the crown prince. This has always been the plan."

"This plan has been in the works for eight years! My parents have replaced me, Piao. They don't need a son who's never been to court. I would be useless to them."

"Little prince…"

"Enough," he snapped. His tone allowed for no argument. In his anger, his newborn magic began to stir and he had to grab the table to keep it from changing his appearance as it so often did. Why his so-called gift seemed to consist only of illusion was beyond him, but at least he could still command his only companion.

One of the household staff came in and knelt in front of the boy, offering him a letter. He frowned before accepting it, casually tearing it open before realizing it bore the crest of the royal family. Eyes wide, he turned to Piao.

"I told you they would send for you when it was time," Piao said, sounding immensely pleased with himself.

The child scowled before turning his attention to the letter. It was indeed a summons, requesting that he be returned to the palace as the true heir to the throne and saying the danger had finally passed. It seemed so impossible he couldn't believe it, so he passed it to his servant without a word. Piao's smile grew wider and wider as he read. Finally, he got up and addressed the servant still prostrated on the floor.

"Inform the household that our belongings are to be gathered immediately and that we will require the use of a carriage. I also need to speak with your master."

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"My lord?"

Kunzite glanced up from the sword he was sharpening, surprised to be interrupted during his time off. "Yes?"

A maid curtsied. "The queen and king would like a word. Apparently a messenger came from the eastern kingdoms."

He nodded brusquely. "I will be there soon."

She dipped another curtsey and left the room. Kunzite finished with the sword and returned it to its sheath, which he then banished back to the armory. Task complete, he teleported silently to the throne room, arriving in a courtly bow.

"Oh, stand up, Kunzite," the queen said impatiently. "We need to talk, not deal with silly etiquette. You have to go to the Chinese capital."

"May I ask why?"

"We received a message from its emperor," King Tarin told him. "Apparently his first-born son, who was declared not long after he was born, was actually in hiding to protect him from assassins. The threat has passed and the child is returning to the palace, so they are inviting representatives of the courts. We want you to go as the ambassador of both the middle kingdoms and of Elysian itself."

"Of course, Your Majesties. When am I to arrive?"

"The boy is already on his way; it of course took the messenger some time to reach the island. That is part of the reason we are asking you. We know you can be there in time to greet the prince upon his arrival."

He was dismissed after that with instructions to leave immediately. While he wanted to be witness to the prince's return, first he had to stop and say goodbye to his own prince and their companion, both of whom would be upset if they couldn't find him later. Hyperion left as he entered the nursery, and Endymion and Zoisite hurried over for hugs. He indulged them before straightening.

"I will be going to the eastern kingdoms for a few days; they are celebrating the return of the crown prince and I am acting as Elysian's emissary."

Their faces fell. "Can't we go?" Endymion asked pathetically as Zoisite nodded.

"I am afraid not. There has been a great deal of turmoil in that area. The king would not risk the two of you on such a trip until you are older and more capable of protecting yourselves."

"We will miss you," Zoisite told him.

"I know. Be good for Master Hyperion while I am gone, boys. I will come here as soon as I return."

They nodded, so Kunzite teleported to his room and changed into his dress uniform before taking himself to the Chinese palace. He was greeted by the emperor's seneschal, who directed him to a suite he would be occupying for the duration of his visit. He was also informed that the prince – Kunzite was surprised to realize he had never heard the boy's name – would be arriving within the hour. He was to wait with the other visiting nobles in the grand hall until then.

The hour came and went, then another besides. The seneschal reappeared to assure them that they were not waiting in vain and that the roads may be causing the prince's carriage some difficulty. Other dignitaries began to get impatient, but he remained unmoving and calm despite the elapsed time. It was only when he sensed a magical disturbance several kilometers away that he began to worry.

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"These robes are uncomfortable," the boy complained sullenly. "And you tied my hair too tightly."

"You are a prince, not a common vagabond. There are certain standards to uphold. Now stop fussing with that topknot," Piao scolded.

He sighed in annoyance and let his hands fall into his lap. The past several hours had been a whirlwind of activity; after that, sitting quietly in a carriage was anticlimactic at best. He was not even permitted to open the curtains covering the windows.

"How much longer?" he asked finally.

"Another ten minutes. Sit still, Your Highness. You mustn't crease your clothes."

The further admonishment only annoyed him more. He quietly contemplated rebelling and flinging the window open so he could feel a breeze. Instead, he realized he knew nothing of the protocol he should be following and might well embarrass himself in front of every important person in the empire. The boy decided then and there that being a prince was not nearly as fun as he'd expected.

The carriage rocked sharply, making both of them look up in surprise. A second tremor made Piao frown, while the boy wondered what was causing it. Ruts normally wouldn't have that much of an effect. Before he could think about it, the world was suddenly on its side and flaming. Scared, he lost control of his appearance and became a larger boy he'd been bullied by at his last residence, though maintaining his bright eyes and blond hair. The old servant across from him wasn't moving.

The door, now over them, wrenched open and a man dressed in black dropped into the fiery carriage. He had a mask covering all but his eyes. The young prince struggled to disentangle himself from his heavy robes, knowing he was in danger. Before he had even removed the outer layer, the man thrust his sword into his shoulder, studied him critically, and climbed out again.

Agony was consuming him now, but he kept fighting to get free. His illusion flickered and vanished, and he realized the masked man had meant to kill him only to be fooled by the illusion's larger side. They thought he was dead. If he cried out, they would know he wasn't. If he didn't get help, the fire would make sure of it. He renewed his struggles, determined to save himself despite the overwhelming odds.

The poor child was on the edge of passing out from the smoke inhalation and wound when another man appeared in the carriage. He was terrified at first, then realized he was not wearing black or a mask. This tall man knelt by him as the flames retreated for no apparent reason.

"Who are you?" the boy demanded, making his voice as strong as he could. It might have been impressive if he hadn't started coughing as soon as he was done speaking.

Kunzite was stunned. There was power in the words, and not in the way of a master speaking to a servant. The boy had tried to compel him to respond with _magic_. Yes, a magical flare had led him to the flaming carriage, but he had not expected such strength from a half-dead, untrained child. The child was one of his.

"My name is Kunzite. What are you called?"

"I don't have a name," he responded blearily, losing focus.

That was dangerous. Someone that could speak and have the words become truly powerful was traditionally named in a sacred ceremony, given a name that would link directly to their power and could be used to control it until they were prepared to master their gift. For the boy to have gone without was extremely risky. He would have to take the risk and do it himself. He bent closer as he pulled the little blond from the heavy robes, which were beginning to singe. After a moment's consideration, he whispered a name into his ear and teleported both of them to Elysian. He needed a healer.

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It was fortunate indeed that Hyperion had been prepared for children with magical talents to be injured often, or they would not have had anyone capable of saving the boy's life before he succumbed to his wounds. Hyperion spent hours purging the smoke from his system, though at least the stab had been fairly simple to mend. As that was taken care of, Kunzite took Endymion and Zoisite to the audience chamber. He bowed low as the little ones hurried to the queen. She scooped them up and gestured for him to speak.

"I found a boy in a burning carriage after sensing a magical disturbance. He was wounded. Upon interaction, I determined that he was the source of the power and more, that he was exceedingly strong. I believe him to be one of the children we have been looking for."

"Do you have proof?"

"He has never been trained, that much is obvious, but through force of will alone he attempted to use compulsion. He has the power of words, sire. I know this beyond the shadow of a doubt. I had to name him so we could control it."

"He doesn't have a name?" the queen asked, appalled.

"It would seem the boy is the Chinese prince. Since he was smuggled from the city mere hours after being born, his parents would not have taken him to their holy man for the ritual and no servant would presume to do such a thing."

"But you would?" Endymion asked, curious. At nine years of age, he was interested in everything his hero did.

"Is that not his parents' decision?" Zoisite wondered.

"Normally, yes, but the situation was pressing. Since he is one of us, he will be entering my command as it is, so it is best that no one knows his true name."

"You do, though," Endymion observed.

"Rest assured that I would never abuse such knowledge." He turned back to the king and queen. "I am unwilling to return to China while the boy is still weak, but I would like to request another emissary be sent explaining the situation. He must stay here."

"Of course," King Tarin said. "Emperor Zhenzong is sympathetic with our goals. What are we calling the Chinese prince, then?"

"His true name will remain between the two of us, but he will be Jadeite to us."

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"Why can't I use my real name?" Jadeite asked after Kunzite patiently explained that he would be staying with them instead of rejoining his family.

"Your power is very rare. You can say things and make them true, or you can force others to obey you. It is… dangerous… if you are not trained, and because of the nature of your gift you are vulnerable to control if anyone discovers your truth – that is, your name. It must be kept secret."

"Even from Endy and Zoi? You said we're like brothers now."

"I imagine you will tell Prince Endymion in time, and whether or not you tell Zoisite is your decision, but you must wait until you are older. Things can change over the years, Jadeite. While I hope it never happens, there are things that might tear us apart. I will never tell anyone."

"But I _want_ to tell them!"

"Jie," he said gently, "you can't. This is the one time I will use your name to command you, but you will obey me in this. You will keep your name to yourself until you are at least an adult, and then you will be circumspect before doing so."

"I like being called Jie," Jadeite told him. "Jadeite is fine, but Jie feels right."

"That is because Jie is now the name you carry in your heart. I know being Jadeite is still strange to you, but you will adjust. We will never speak of this again. Do you understand me?"

The boy hung his head. "Yes, Kunzite. But do you have a heart's name?"

"I do. My mother named me and I have always kept it close, but it is not the same for me. I cannot be controlled with it."

"What was it?"

"It was Kareem. It means 'noble'."

"What does my name mean?"

"Jie means 'prominent' or 'successful'. It is what I want you to be." Kunzite smiled at him. "Come; the others want to see what you can do. Welcome home, Jadeite."

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AN: I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I'm not sure about parts of it, but it does what I needed it to and I wanted to explore a little of Jadeite's ability while I was at it. It'll be a plot point in the related series, for those of you who read the TTT set. So, as always, I want to hear anything you have to say about this and that means reviews. Till next time!


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